VengefulBirch
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Chapters 62-65
🕑 Added 2025-07-24 18:07:48 +0000 UTCEnjoy a four-chapter bonanza.
Chapter 62
Felisia stood in the shallow crater where the Goblin Wizard’s last fireball had exploded, steam rising off her armor.
Her breath came in shallow pants, and a tingling numbness crept up her arms from exhaustion.
She braced herself on her sword and stared down at the wizard’s broken body. The arena lights flickered off its scaly hide.
She raised her blade and forced herself upright because she knew she could not afford to let her guard drop, even though the enemy lay dead.
That last fight had nearly ended her, not because her opponent was stronger than the Goblins Jacob usually destroyed in a single strike, but because the thing had fought like a rat in a barrel.
Fireballs and curses had flown at her from every angle, so she had to use every ounce of her Skill to block, dodge, and retaliate.
In the end, it was Grand Water Slash that saved her, even though her arm now throbbed from forcing the arc wide enough to catch the bastard mid-cast.
She wiped the sweat from her brow and forced a breath into lungs that felt too small for her chest.
This was a hard battle, she thought. Without Jacob’s being my Tutor…
Her thoughts drifted to the many nights he had kept her drilling in the rain and the dark.
She remembered how he would not let her settle for half-mastered Skills or lazy footwork, even when the other students mocked her.
If he had not pushed her to absorb Platinum Crystals and had not made her practice until she bled, she would have died here. He’s so amazing. I bet he’s already killed his mini-boss.
She stepped over the Goblin’s corpse and walked to the open gate at the far end of the arena.
The stone under her feet had gone slick from the spells, but she kept her balance. She felt tired but not truly hurt.
Her mana reserves felt lower than she liked, yet Jacob’s training had taught her to conserve every bit, to pull strength out of corners of her body she never knew existed.
The mini-boss that she defeated had stood on the threshold between Silver and Gold Rank, a step above most of the monsters in these tests.
Yet Jacob’s coaching had let her reach Gold Rank, not as an Advanced but as a solid Intermediate.
By the standards of most Knights, she would not stand out, but she did not feel out of place anymore.
The main difference was not just the raw numbers—her Skills felt sharper, more efficient, as if her mind and body moved with one purpose now.
Jacob’s advice lived inside her head, guiding every parry and every mana surge.
She had grown, even apart from him, because his words stuck with her like lines cut into stone.
Sometimes I wonder how someone from a mine did that. I bet his master let him there to teach him humility, she thought as she walked, letting herself believe in Jacob’s fake story.
Even after he revealed his real name, she had never doubted his claim about the mysterious tutor who had shaped him into a genius.
She moved through the exit and went back to the arena.
The arena stretched in a circle around an ancient stone obelisk. Mana pulsed from the monument’s base. The air hummed with a current of static, and the light dimmed near the top.
Felisia froze because she saw someone crawling out of a shadowed staircase that spiraled beneath the obelisk. Jacob moved with an awkward, halting gait.
His shirt stuck to his skin with blood, and his right arm shook so badly that she thought he might collapse.
His face looked drawn and haggard.
Black veins snaked from his throat to his jaw, and his eyes glowed with an intensity she had never seen before.
“Jacob!” she called out, running over to catch him before he fell. She slipped her shoulder under his, bracing his weight. “What happened?!”
Jacob did not answer at first. His breath rattled in his chest, and his legs buckled as if someone had pulled the bones out from under him. He tried to straighten, but the effort made him cough up blood. Still, he pressed on, pushing Felisia’s hand away, walking toward the center where the obelisk rose from the ground.
At that moment, Calantha, Lord Aulus, Adrienne, and Veyl strode into the room from other entrances.
They walked as a group, each one showing signs of strain except for Veyl, who wore a thin smile.
Calantha scowled the moment she saw Felisia, but her glare sharpened when she noticed Jacob staggering upright.
“Oh, how surprising,” Lord Aulus said, shaking his head. His voice carried a lazy cruelty. “A peasant couldn’t finish some light work.”
Felisia felt Jacob’s whole body tremble. For a split second, she wondered if he was afraid.
His breathing came ragged and shallow, but she watched as he forced himself to stand taller, pushing away from her. Jacob’s face shifted from exhaustion to something hard and dangerous.
Jacob coughed up more blood, spat it at the ground, and turned his gaze on Lord Aulus.
“I challenge you, Lord Aulus,” he said. His voice sounded raw, but the words rang through the chamber. “How about you and I go for a duel before entering the last challenge?”
The words shocked everyone. Calantha stopped, halfway through a sneer. Adrienne’s eyes narrowed, and Veyl’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. Even Lord Aulus paused, raising his eyebrows in a mixture of surprise and scorn.
*
On the upper levels of the arena, a crowd of nobles and guildmasters watched the exchange. A heavyset man in golden robes shot to his feet, his voice booming over the clamor.
“Has he lost his mind?! What is he doing?! Doesn’t he know how strong Lord Aulus is?!”
“He’s no Elf, and maybe if the kid was at the top of his form, he could have a good shot, but look at him!” another noble shouted.
“He’s going to die!”
This time, there were fewer sneers than usual.
The Aulus family and those close to Grandmaster Dorn showed cold grins, but others in the crowd watched with quiet awe.
Jacob’s defeat of the Gold Rank Ogre Warlord had changed the air. Most now watched in tense anticipation, no longer seeing a “peasant” or an upstart, but a man who had accomplished what even senior Knights would have hesitated to attempt.
“I should intervene,” Lord Clearwater said, rising from his seat.
Sir Renquell, who had watched everything with his arms folded, stopped him with a single hand.
“Wait. I don’t think anyone here has yet understood how much power was behind that Skill. And Jacob Cloud is also hiding one more ace in his sleeve.”
Lord Clearwater hesitated, meeting Sir Renquell’s steady gaze, and then slowly lowered himself back down. The other nobles leaned in closer, waiting for what would come next.
*
“I want to see this,” Veyl sneered, gesturing to Adrienne, who had reached for the keys to the obelisk. Adrienne paused, her eyes flicking between Jacob and Lord Aulus, weighing whether to interfere.
“You want to fight me?” Lord Aulus said, shaking his head. “Look at yourself, peasant. You could never, in a million years, hope to defeat me in these conditions.”
“Can’t I?” Jacob said, forcing a smile. Blood stained his teeth. “My parents are watching me, and it’d be a shame for me to slaughter someone in this condition.”
He looked half-mad from pain and exhaustion, yet something fierce and confident glinted in his eyes.
Everyone else in the room seemed to expect him to collapse, but Jacob’s posture grew firmer with every second.
He remembered the instant the Dark Blade had cut down the Ogre Warlord. The aftermath had left him on the verge of passing out, but the resonance from that strike triggered something he had never anticipated.
One of his Skills had evolved, not in Rank but in Affinity, and the new version now surged with power.
Jacob knew that fighting Lord Aulus was his only real chance to recover enough health and mana for what came next, and for Felisia to have any hope of victory as well.
He willed the Dark Blade into his hand. Darkness surged along his arm, and a blade of living shadow took shape.
Summoning it made his vision swim with pain, and he had to grit his teeth to maintain control. Still, he poured his remaining will into holding the facade of power.
“I have more than enough power to give you the duel of a lifetime,” Jacob said, letting the Dark Blade’s mana crackle in the air. The pressure made the others step back, every one of them able to feel the threat in the room. “I’m not a useless peasant, like you think. I might come from humble origins, but I’m ready to slaughter you like a pig and prove every noble watching us that my place here has been earned.”
“You would want a duel to the death?!” Lord Aulus’s face went red with rage and disbelief. He looked to Calantha, searching for some hint of restraint.
Calantha’s face twisted in fury. She ground her teeth and hissed, “Take the duel. This bastard rat has been insulting me for too long, Lord Aulus. He called me—”
“Bald? I didn’t say it, actually. I said it’d be a great offense if anyone pointed it out,” Jacob said, flashing a grin despite the pain. Calantha started staring daggers at Lord Aulus, who, now furious, unsheathed a thin sword and held it at the ready.
“Rat, I’ll make it painless for you. You might attack whenever—“
“[Dark Lattice].”
Jacob spoke the words, and an ink-black stain spread outward from his shadow, flooding the stone at Lord Aulus’s feet before the nobleman could even react. Lord Aulus looked down, half amused, until his boots sank ten centimeters into the ground, and then his amusement turned to confusion and then fear. Dark tendrils erupted from the black pool and wrapped around his legs, then surged upward, coiling around his arms, his chest, and his throat.
Lord Aulus thrashed and yanked at the bindings, but the tendrils squeezed tighter with every movement, choking off his protests. The chamber filled with gasps and muffled shouts.
Jacob summoned the Grimoire in his mind. The system display flickered before his eyes.
[Dark Lattice has been analyzed.]
[Dark Lattice top three flaws have been listed.]
Unstable siphon: The lattice wastes nearly half the gathered mana when the flow is not synchronized.
Exposure loop: Physical resistance drops by 37% when the user is focused on both attack and defense.
Pulse distortion: If the opponent’s willpower is high enough, they can break a node by overloading their mana.
Jacob made adjustments on the fly. He wove fire mana through the main node and tightened the loops around Lord Aulus’s heart, correcting the flow according to the Grimoire’s instructions. The lattice glowed with red highlights, and the mana siphon stabilized.
The tendrils thickened, drawing not only mana but also health from Lord Aulus.
The Dark Lattice vibrated under Jacob’s control, every pulse drawing more strength from his opponent. Jacob felt warmth begin to return to his limbs, his own veins filling as Lord Aulus’s color faded.
The noble’s face turned ashen, and his limbs jerked with convulsions as the Skill drained him. Jacob forced himself to maintain eye contact, refusing to let pity or hesitation creep in.
This Skill had changed fundamentally when it evolved. Shadow Lattice could only steal mana, but Dark Lattice took life itself. Jacob thought, The Skill only grows stronger the longer someone stays in it. It’s a risky move because it’s slow and obvious, but I made Lord Aulus focus on Dark Blade so he never saw it coming.
Calantha’s face went pale.
She raised her weapon, fury burning in her eyes, and stepped forward, but Felisia blocked her path.
“You’re not interfering,” Felisia said, bringing her sword up in a defensive stance. Calantha swung at her, but Felisia parried and twisted Calantha’s wrist, forcing her to drop the blade. Calantha stumbled back, stunned by Felisia’s sudden speed and strength.
Adrienne watched the fight with narrowed eyes. Veyl crossed his arms and said nothing.
Lord Aulus’s struggles weakened as the lattice drained him.
His skin took on a bluish tint, and the veins in his face stood out like bruises. The tendrils at his neck pulsed, drawing out the last reserves of his health. Jacob could feel his own wounds knitting together, his mana rising to levels that made his head spin.
*
“He’s healing himself!” a sharp-eyed noble shouted from above.
“HOW?!”
“He’s mastered a new Skill? But didn’t he have that Skill already? We saw it on the first island, didn’t we?”
The nobles began muttering, some in awe, others in fear.
Lord Aulus’s parents began to shout, their anger drowning out reason. His father cursed Jacob’s name and threatened retribution.
Sir Renquell appeared behind Lord Aulus’s father and whispered, “Your son accepted the duel knowing full well what the consequences would be. Interfere and you’ll dishonor your house forever.”
The threats fell silent after that, replaced by stunned, impotent rage.
*
Jacob restored himself almost to full health, blood flow returning to his cheeks, wounds closing across his arms and chest. He flexed his fingers, feeling mana coursing through him, strength surging back as Lord Aulus slumped inside the lattice.
He looked down at his opponent. The man hung by the neck, nearly lifeless, his lips turning blue. Jacob considered finishing him, ending the humiliation for good, but he caught Felisia’s eye.
She shook her head slightly, her expression unreadable.
Jacob released the lattice, letting Lord Aulus fall to the ground in a heap. The man still lived, barely, his breath rasping in his throat.
“You’re going to live, Lord Aulus,” Jacob said, his voice carrying across the chamber. He turned to Calantha and pointed at her. “He’ll keep breathing as long as you agree to drop out of the challenge. Try anything, and I’ll finish what I started.”
Calantha stood silent, jaw clenched. Her hands shook. The chamber went dead quiet, everyone waiting for her response.
Jacob waited.
The obelisk pulsed with mana, and the world held its breath.
Chapter 63
Calantha stands across from me with her jaw clenched and her face drained of blood. Her eyes dart between my hand, where the last flicker of Dark Lattice fades, and Lord Aulus, who lies sprawled at my feet.
The color has drained from his lips, and his chest rises with shallow, uneven breaths. The arrogance she always wears has evaporated, replaced with something raw and frightened.
For a second, she refuses to move, her hands hanging at her sides, knuckles whitening as she grips the empty air where her sword used to be.
“What?!” she spits, her voice wavering with disbelief. The sound cracks like ice under too much weight.
I take a step closer, making sure she sees the hard set of my jaw.
“I’ll spare his life,” I say, keeping my voice as flat and cold as the Skill I just used. “You just have to give up.”
Calantha glares at me, her pride still pushing back against the inevitable. She glances down at Lord Aulus again and tries to will him to stand, but the man doesn’t even twitch. His eyes roll back into his skull, and his breathing grows fainter by the second.
Felisia steps up beside me with a sword in her hand.
“He’s going to die if you keep this up, Calantha,” she says, her voice unwavering. “We both know it.”
The room goes silent except for the ragged, desperate gasps coming from Aulus. Calantha’s fists tremble, and for a moment I think she might attack out of pure frustration, but then she sees the way I watch her—without fear or mercy, but with the certainty that if she makes the wrong move, she’ll join him on the floor.
Something inside her snaps. She squeezes her eyes shut and lets out a long, shaking breath. When she opens them again, her arrogance is gone, replaced by a deep and bitter acceptance.
“I give up,” she says, her words quiet but clear enough for everyone to hear. “You win, Jacob Cloud.
There is no applause. There is no triumph. Even Veyl and Adrienne stand silent, their expressions unreadable.
The only sound is the heavy, stuttering breathing of Lord Aulus, and the distant whine of wind through cracks in the arena walls.
*
We gather at the obelisk in the center of the arena. Each of us produces a keystone, a jagged chunk of mana-infused stone that we earned by defeating the mini-bosses and completing our individual trials.
Veyl holds his with a loose grip, his face blank except for the faintest crease between his brows.
Adrienne’s lips are pressed into a thin line as she pushes her keystone into the slot.
Felisia glances at me with an uncertain smile, as if even she cannot believe we made it this far.
The moment the last keystone sinks into the obelisk, a pulse of energy erupts from its core. The world shudders, and the walls of the arena peel away like sheets of paper caught in a storm. I feel my body pulled forward and stretched, as if every atom is racing to keep up with itself.
A second later, we stand in a new world. My feet touch down on cool grass, and the air smells like thunder, stone, and distant rain. The sky glows with a strange, golden light, and the land stretches in every direction, unbroken and wild.
I take a moment to process what I’m seeing.
I grew up in Shit’s Creek, and anyone who’s been there knows it’s a place where dreams go to die. The water runs brown, the hills sag with rust, and even the air tastes like disappointment.
Clearwater Bay has some natural beauty, with the sea curving around white cliffs and forests crowding the shore, but even that pales beside the sight before me.
All around us, the ground rolls with waves of green.
Trees climb high and bend over rivers that cut through the earth like glass blades. Magmatic rocks jut from the hillsides, their black faces streaked with veins of glowing red.
Far off, I see waterfalls tumbling from mountain ledges and rivers of light pouring into deep blue lakes.
Mist drifts over the valley floors, catching the sunlight in a hundred fractured rainbows.
For a moment, I forget the pain in my arms and the exhaustion dragging on my soul. I just stand and stare.
Even Veyl, whose face is usually unreadable, has to stop and take it in. Adrienne’s mouth hangs open. Felisia grips my sleeve as if to remind herself she’s not dreaming.
In the distance, almost lost in the haze, I spot a pillar of light. It pulses and shimmers, so bright that even the midday sun cannot drown it out. My heart thuds in my chest, and I know—without anyone telling me—that the race ends there. That is where the throne waits.
The spell breaks fast. The others snap out of their trance and remember why we’re here. This is not a sightseeing trip. This is a fight for survival and for victory.
Veyl turns toward the mountains and grunts.
“Start going,” he says, glancing at Adrienne. “I’ll keep up on foot.”
Before Adrienne can answer, lightning arcs around Veyl’s body. The smell of ozone floods the air, and in an instant, he’s nothing but a blur surging up the slope, feet barely touching the ground.
Adrienne shakes her head, her eyes full of contempt. She turns to Felisia and lets out a dry laugh.
“It’s nice that you came this far, Felisia,” she says, her voice dripping with mock affection. “Once I take father’s place, you’ll serve me well.”
Felisia squares her shoulders and steps forward, refusing to give an inch.
“Once I take power, you will be exiled,” she says, not bothering to hide her hatred.
Adrienne’s jaw clenches, and for the first time, her mask of cool arrogance slips. She glances at me, then back at Felisia.
“You really think you can stand against me?”
Felisia only stares her down. Adrienne huffs and gives up pretending at kindness. She sweeps a strand of hair over her shoulder, then turns her attention to the task at hand.
With a flick of her wrist, she summons water from the air. It spins around her arms and gathers at her back, forming translucent wings that glint in the sunlight. She looks down at Felisia, flashing a cruel smile.
“What? Never seen wings before?”
Felisia frowns, refusing to answer. Adrienne launches herself into the air, wings beating hard and fast. The rush of water churns up wind that tugs at our clothes. She shoots forward like a bolt from a crossbow, rising higher and higher.
I watch her go, measuring her speed and height, and I frown because she’s faster than she has any right to be. She’s burning through mana at a ridiculous rate, but her reserves must be massive. I see her silhouette flicker as she alternates between flying and running, switching to conserve power.
Veyl moves up the hill in a zigzag, taking advantage of every outcropping of stone and every updraft. Lightning crackles at his heels. I know I cannot afford to fall behind.
Felisia glances at me.
“Are you sure you can keep up with that?”
I grin and summon Infernal Wings of Ash, letting the Skill pulse through my back. Ash and flame swirl together, weaving into wings that look both fragile and deadly. The wings stretch outward, casting a shadow over the grass.
“Hold on,” I say, scooping Felisia up before she can protest.
Her face goes red as a beet.
“Put me down! What are you doing?”
“We’re not running,” I say, tucking her into a firm hold. “Unless you want to try flying on your own.”
Felisia groans but clamps her arms around my neck. I launch upward, the wings beating with a rhythm that almost matches my heartbeat. The sensation of flight hits me all at once—wind howls past my ears, the ground drops away, and every part of my body aches with the strain of holding Felisia and keeping us stable.
Infernal Wings of Ash has reached level 73, but progress has slowed to a crawl. Every new level takes more and more effort. In life-or-death fights, I can push through barriers, but here, it’s a grind. Without that pressure, I keep running into invisible walls. The flaws I’ve spotted in the channels and the way the energy bleeds off into the air mean I waste at least twenty percent of my output every time I take flight.
Grimoire, give me more instructions on how to make Infernal Wings of Ash more efficient. I call up the Skill’s interface and see new notes blinking into place.
The Grimoire displays:
Rising Sun leaks mana on sharp turns, causing turbulence and drag.
Lower spinal Root Veins create backflow that disrupts sustained lift above 50 meters of altitude.
I stare at the floating words, trying to visualize the channels and correct the flow in real time. Felisia’s grip tightens as we tilt sideways on a gust. My mind races, searching for the right rhythm. The pressure mounts as Adrienne pulls farther ahead. Hatred for these nobles burns in my chest. All the slights, the sneers, the sabotage—each one fuels me, sharpening my focus.
Suddenly, I feel something shift inside. Adrenaline surges through me, and the world narrows down to the fire in my blood and the pulse of mana in my veins. I force the mana through the channels, fixing the problems. Now that I’m feeling more focused, it feels much easier—diamonds are created under pressure, I get.
The wings stabilize, and the drag vanishes.
“Careful,” Felisia says, her voice softer now. “I don’t want to fall.”
“You won’t,” I promise, tightening my hold just a bit. I never take my eyes off the horizon.
Infernal Wings of Ash jumps six levels, surging to almost level eighty.
We shoot forward. I overtake Adrienne, cutting through the air so fast that I leave a trail of black ash and sparks behind us. The mana drain eases, and the wings feel lighter.
*
Adrienne flies high, feeling the strong drain from Water Wings on her Mana reserves.
She’s in the latter stages of Gold Rank, but this is a Diamond Skill, something beyond her current level. She’ll never be able to keep it up until they reach the throne. However, she can alternate flying and running, which makes her much faster than even Veyl.
She has to admit that, during this trial, the Elf has been getting more and more on her nerves.
That peasant definitely has some tricks up his sleeve, but Sir Renquell gave me a Diamond Skill. There’s nothing they can do—
“Your control over that Skill is pretty pathetic,” Adrienne hears someone right above her and cranes her neck upward to see none other than Jacob Cloud, holding her younger sister, Felisia, in a princess carry, and flying with ease.
“HOW?!”
*
I look down at Felisia. Her face is scarlet, and her hands grip my tunic so hard I’m surprised she hasn’t torn it.
“Hey, are you okay?” I ask, concern overriding the thrill of flight. Maybe the cold air is too much, or maybe the pressure is messing with her head, or maybe she’s just never been this far off the ground before.
She glares back at me, her eyes wide and unblinking. We’re so close that I can feel the heat of her breath on my face.
“Shut up!” she snaps, punching my chest. The impact makes me drop a few meters before I regain balance.
“Ouch,” I groan. “What was that for?”
“Shut up and look ahead! Don’t have us crash somewhere!”
“Alright, alright,” I say, steering us higher and farther. The wind stings my eyes, and I blink rapidly.
Grimoire, I think, hoping for a lifeline. Do you have any information on what’s wrong with her?
The Grimoire offers no advice.
Even a Rainbow Skill can’t figure out women.
Chapter 64
We are flying high above a canyon, the wind shrieking past my ears and waterfalls pouring into mist below. Felisia’s weight presses against my arms, and each beat of my Infernal Wings of Ash draws more mana than the last. My heart still races from overtaking Adrienne, whose watery wings lag far behind now. Veyl is nowhere in sight. I check the horizon and see nothing but sky and stone. For a few seconds, I let myself believe we have left the competition behind for good.
The moment shatters. A shadow blots out the sun, and cold dread runs down my spine. A massive lizard swoops down from above, its wings slicing the air with terrifying force. The beast’s body is short for something with a wingspan larger than a cottage, but every muscle along its back ripples with deadly potential. Its scales glimmer like bronze armor dipped in acid, and its talons flex as it banks in the sky.
A System prompt flashes at the edge of my vision.
[ Flying Drake — Level 180 ]
I swallow hard.
“Holy shit,” I mutter.
The Drake folds its wings and drops toward us, jaws yawning wide. I see the white-hot glow in its throat a split second before it unleashes a storm of fire.
I dive, rolling my body and angling my wings, but Felisia’s weight throws off my center of gravity.
The edge of the blast catches us, heat searing the back of my legs, but I manage to keep hold of her and pull us into a narrow spiral.
We tumble through the air. Felisia’s arms clamp tight around my neck, but I keep us upright, barely missing the frothing surface of the river below. My wings beat hard, trailing sparks and ash as we climb back toward the safety of a higher current.
There is no chance we can face something like this now. My health and mana are better than before—Dark Lattice on Lord Aulus worked wonders—but I know my limits.
The Flying Drake is not some oversized beast; it is a boss monster, the kind of threat that makes Silver Rankers run for cover.
I cannot beat it head-on, not when I am carrying Felisia, not with our reserves already taxed by the race.
I backpedal, letting us drift farther from the Drake. The monster does not chase us. Instead, it hovers on the updraft, reptilian eyes narrowed to cruel yellow slits, watching every move I make. Its tail flicks from side to side, scattering chunks of stone as it settles onto a high outcropping.
A streak of blue and silver flashes to my right. Adrienne finally reaches us, wings beating raggedly. She pulls up short when she spots the Drake and glares at me as if this is somehow my fault.
She does not bother with pleasantries. She looks at the monster, takes in its wingspan and its claws, and mutters, “Dammit.”
She surges forward, thinking she can power through, but her Water Wings stutter mid-beat. The Drake hisses, shifting its weight. Adrienne hesitates and drops altitude, forced to circle back.
I notice that she is burning more mana than I am, and her breath comes in gasps.
Even with a Diamond Skill, she is not used to this kind of sustained output. I realize that, for the first time, I have an advantage. Felisia gives me a look of concern, but I shake my head. I am not interested in dying today.
The Drake intercepts Adrienne without even trying. One lazy flap of its wings and it cuts her off, jaws opening for another blast. Adrienne curses and banks away. She drifts to a clearing below, and I follow her, gliding down through the trees. We touch down together, Felisia sliding from my arms with a sigh of relief.
The clearing is ringed by rocks, the air stifling from the last burst of dragonfire. Adrienne paces, muttering under her breath. Veyl appears moments later, emerging from the shadows, lightning still sparking at his feet.
“There are monsters that guard the passage,” Adrienne says, trying to sound in control, but her voice is strained. “We have to collaborate.”
Felisia looks at me, raising her eyebrows. I just shrug and drop cross-legged to the ground, closing my eyes. I start meditating, letting the world fall away. Adrienne stares, dumbfounded.
Felisia knows what I am doing. I told her long ago that, if we ran into a situation where raw power could not solve the problem, my maxed-out Meditation Skill would come in handy. Nobody levels Meditation by accident. It takes willpower, discipline, and desperation—three things that most nobles do not even know exist. Felisia sits beside me, copying my posture.
Adrienne glares, still pacing.
“What are you doing? We need to plan!”
Felisia answers her, calm and unwavering.
“He’s meditating. You should too. You burned a lot of mana flying. Veyl, you too. We’ll all need every advantage if we want to survive this fight.”
Adrienne stares, struggling with the idea that someone could tell her what to do. She wants to retort, but exhaustion drags at her limbs. She gives in and sits, her posture stiff and resentful. Veyl sits a short distance away, arms crossed, eyes closed but clearly alert.
The clearing goes quiet. I dive into Meditation, letting my thoughts fade. My body repairs itself. My mana pool fills, and I feel the tension in my chest loosen. I do not worry about giving the others time to recover. Someone here will heal faster than anyone else, and someone here has a Rainbow Skill that tips the scales in my favor.
Two hours pass in silence. When I finally stand, my head feels clear, my veins thrumming with power. Felisia gets up next, eyes shining with renewed energy. Adrienne rises, slower than before, the edges of her control fraying. Veyl is last, shaking out his arms.
Veyl sneers as he sizes me up.
“I didn’t know you could fly. What else have you been hiding, peasant?”
He thinks he is clever, but he did not see my fight against the Ogre Warlord.
I look him in the eye.
“I know I’m not as strong as you or Adrienne,” I say, letting honesty carry my words. “But I want to do my best. I’ll contribute whatever I can, so we can have a fair race after.”
My admission throws both of them off. They look at each other, trying to read my motives. Adrienne’s lips twitch in a half-smirk.
“We don’t need help from you or my sister. You’re just going to slow us down.”
Veyl grins, arms folded.
“Without us, you two would be drake’s food. Don’t think we don’t see through you. You’re just hoping we’ll tire ourselves out on the Drake while you watch from the sidelines.”
Felisia bristles at the insult, but I just smile.
“Actually, I have a better plan. Felisia and I will keep the Drake busy up close. You and Adrienne focus on attacking it from range. If we all play our roles, we might make it through alive.”
That stuns them into silence. Adrienne blinks, mouth open. Veyl stares at me like I have grown a second head.
*
A short while later, Adrienne and Veyl walk a few paces away to talk. Their voices carry in the wind.
“He’s insane,” Adrienne mutters. “He’s giving us the kill. We’ll finish the Drake, and he’ll be left in the dust.”
Veyl laughs.
“Let him be stupid.”
*
We gather at the edge of the Drake’s territory. The monster circles above, scanning the clearing with predatory intent. My heart pounds, but I force myself to project calm. Felisia stands next to me, her hands shaking. She leans close and whispers, “Are you sure about this?”
I nod. “I’m sure.”
She shakes her head. “Jacob, really. Are you sure?”
I laugh, summoning Hell’s Sword with a flick of my wrist. The weapon burns in my hand, casting rippling shadows on the ground.
*
High above us, the noble gallery watches the scene unfold. Voices clash and echo across the viewing platform.
“Why would Jacob face the Drake head-on?” a portly noble shouts. “He’s just throwing the fight away.”
“He’s giving Adrienne and Veyl the win,” another agrees. “Doesn’t he realize how powerful that beast is?”
One sharp-eyed spectator interrupts, “He hasn’t used the Skill he killed the Ogre Warlord with. He must have something planned.”
Sir Renquell leans in, eyes glinting with interest.
“Watch closely,” he says to Lord Clearwater, “look at the Drake’s body. Pay attention to how it reacts to his approach.”
*
The Drake descends, claws ripping into the earth as it lands with a crash. I step forward, keeping Hell’s Sword low and ready. Felisia follows, eyes wide but determined.
The monster lashes out. I barely move, waiting for the perfect moment, then parry one swipe with the flat of my blade. The impact knocks me back. I drop to one knee, pushing against the claw with every ounce of strength I have. My muscles tremble, but I hold my ground, letting out a dramatic shout.
Felisia falters, remembering my instructions, but fear gets the better of her. She stumbles away, cheeks blazing with shame. I give her a reassuring nod.
Veyl and Adrienne watch in confusion. Their eyes dart between me, Felisia, and the Drake.
Veyl shakes off his doubts first. He channels lightning into his hands, launching bolts at the Drake’s exposed flank. Adrienne follows, gathering icy water around her and hurling frozen spears. The attacks hit home, biting into the Drake’s scales. The monster lets out a piercing shriek, spinning away from me to chase them.
“Hey!” I shout after the Drake, “I thought we agreed on the order! Come back and fight me like a real lizard!”
Felisia groans. “This is ridiculous, Jacob.”
I shrug.
“I can’t help it if the monster’s got no sense of fair play.”
The Drake charges after Adrienne and Veyl. It spits fire and swipes with its claws, forcing them to leap and dodge for their lives. The sky lights up with flashes of lightning and clouds of steam.
Whenever the Drake pauses, I slip in close and touch its side with Dark Lattice, draining mana and health with careful, hidden channels. The Grimoire flashes a page:
Flying Drake — Physical body weak (Silver Rank threat) / Ranged attacks near-Platinum danger / Approach in melee: risk drops. Main threat: fire and air.
I grin. The Drake’s claws and teeth are nothing compared to its breath and ranged spells. As long as I stay close and keep its focus off Felisia, we are safe. I let Adrienne and Veyl do most of the damage, pretending to chase the beast, but never outpacing them.
Felisia tries to follow my lead but cannot match my calm. She ducks under the monster’s wing, slicing with her blade, but every time the Drake snaps at her, she backs off, breath coming in short, panicked bursts.
Veyl lands another bolt, and the Drake shrieks. It spins, tail smashing into a tree. Adrienne sends a wave of ice crashing into its snout. The monster staggers, flames leaking from its nostrils. It turns all its rage on the two of them, forgetting about Felisia and me.
I slip in again, using Dark Lattice to top up my reserves. The Grimoire’s page flickers in my mind, showing the weaknesses in the Drake’s defenses. I carve shallow cuts along its side, never risking too much. Adrienne and Veyl pour on the pressure, sweat pouring down their faces as their mana drops.
Felisia glances at me, panting. “How are you so calm?”
“Trade secret,” I say, winking.
The Drake howls and launches a final, desperate attack. Adrienne and Veyl unleash everything they have left. Lightning crackles and ice explodes against the beast’s hide. The Drake crashes to the ground, wings splayed and tail twitching.
Veyl staggers, gasping for air. Adrienne sinks to one knee, arms shaking. I brush the dust from my sleeves and help Felisia up.
“Ready to go?” I ask, grinning.
Chapter 65
A heavy hush has fallen over the nobles, high on the cliffs above the arena’s wild border. Even the old money snobs and jaded guildmasters are frozen, jaws slack, eyes fixed on the aftermath of the showdown.
The corpse of the Winged Drake sprawls across a half-flattened boulder, its wings drooping, its hide still steaming from ice and lightning. The monster’s last breaths hang in the air.
All the while, Jacob and Felisia stand on a patch of grass not far away, their clothes unruffled, hair neat, skin clear, their bodies giving off the glow of a morning after a spa day.
The nobles murmur. It is not the malicious peanut gallery of earlier rounds—now their words drift more in confusion and reluctant awe.
“How did that peasant get out of this without a scratch?” a pale old merchant says, gripping the rail.
“He must have some rare good luck. The Elf and Lady Adrienne look half-dead, but the other two…” Another noble shakes his head, lips curling, not in anger but in the shock of witnessing something that upends what he thought he knew about dungeons.
“Perhaps he hid the whole fight? Let the others do the work?”
“No, look at Felisia—she’s the same. They both must have done something right. You don’t get that lucky twice in a row.”
A few shake their heads in wonder, peering at the mirrors.
“That one’s got nerves of steel, that’s all I’ll say.”
*
Adrienne collapses near the edge of the clearing, wings dissolving into mist as she tries to catch her breath. Her chest heaves, sweat running in streaks down her face. She glances at Veyl, who is bent double, hands on his knees, his breathing so ragged it sounds like he swallowed broken glass.
Adrienne whispers, barely audible, “What just happened? Why do those two look like they spent the morning at a hot spring and not fighting for their lives?”
Veyl spits on the ground, eyes narrowed at Jacob.
“There’s no way this is real. He must be cheating, using some artifact or trick to hide his wounds. I’m not buying it.” He sparks lightning along his fingers, voice rising as he points at Jacob. “Come on, you bastard. You want to show off? Try fighting fair.”
Jacob raises a hand in mock surrender.
“I’m all for a rematch, but unless you want another monster breathing fire up your ass, maybe we should keep moving.”
Adrienne straightens, forcing herself to look steady.
“Jacob’s right. If there’s a monster like that guarding this passage, the next leg of the trial’s probably crawling with more of them, maybe stronger ones. If we waste energy fighting among ourselves, we’ll lose before we even see the throne.”
Veyl scowls.
“We don’t need help. I, an Elf ordained by the High Court, refuse to share any more time fighting alongside that peasant.”
I can’t keep the grin off my face.
“What’s so funny?” Veyl snaps.
I point at Felisia, then at Adrienne, then at Veyl and myself.
“Because this isn’t really a trial for you, Veyl. It’s a trial for them.” I jab my thumb at Adrienne and Felisia. “That monster wasn’t supposed to be ‘easy to handle,’ even for you guys. I’d bet Lord Clearwater is testing the both of you.”
Felisia echoes my words, a little uncertain but catching on.
“Testing us?”
“Exactly,” I say, letting the smugness leak into my voice.
*
On the viewing cliff, every noble has turned to look at Lord Clearwater. He leans back, folds his arms, and sighs. “That scoundrel saw right through it.”
A few nobles blink in confusion. Others start to nod, understanding dawning on their faces.
*
“When I worked the mines with my father, before I got out and started my own path,” I say, “he taught me a few hard lessons. Sometimes, you get sent to a place you’re not meant to survive alone. If you go past that point, you get a beating.”
Adrienne scrunches her nose, confusion obvious.
“‘Beating?’ Like a monster attacks you?”
Felisia shakes her head.
“He means a literal beating, Adrienne.”
Veyl’s frown deepens, but he stays silent.
I continue, “It means you’re not supposed to pass through certain tunnels by yourself. If you do, and things go bad, you need a team. You need someone at the safe point to raise the alarm or pull you out. Some jobs, you can’t do alone. That’s the lesson. That’s the point of this trial.”
A long silence stretches as the meaning sinks in.
Adrienne breaks it, thinking aloud. “With Calantha, this would have been much easier. Why did you force her to leave?”
I shrug. “I don’t have precognition. I couldn’t have known this was the test. But now I see why your father arranged things this way.” For the first time, I catch a look of respect in Adrienne’s eyes.
She glances at Felisia, at Veyl, and then back at the drake’s corpse.
“He wanted us to fight together. There’s not a single one of us who could have soloed that beast and come out clean. Not even you, Veyl.”
Veyl sneers.
“Only a coward or a weakling needs help. I’ll prove it on the next monster. I won’t depend on a peasant for anything.” Adrienne doesn’t bother to hide her disgust, but she keeps her thoughts to herself.
Felisia sighs, finally grasping the real trial.
“So this is supposed to be an opportunity for us to work together.”
I nod, my voice serious now.
“This isn’t about individual glory. It’s about survival. Maybe that’s what Lord Clearwater wants you to see before you’re handed power.”
Veyl snorts, eyes full of scorn. “Maybe that’s what you want to believe, but I’m not wasting any more time with your drivel. Let’s rest up. I won’t have an excuse for losing to you.”
I grin at him, all teeth. “Do you need extra time to meditate, Veyl? Don’t tell me you burn mana faster than I do.”
Veyl glowers.
“In this joke of a contest, two hours is more than enough.”
Adrienne cuts in, voice tight with fatigue.
“We should rest at least four hours. You’re running on fumes.”
Veyl brushes her aside with a wave.
“If you want to laze around with these bottom-feeders, be my guest. Two hours, not a minute more.” He sits, arms crossed, every inch the stubborn Elf.
Adrienne frowns but doesn’t argue further.
Felisia sits with me, and I settle in, closing my eyes.
*
During the rest, I make every minute count. While Adrienne and Veyl glare daggers at each other and try to meditate, I quietly summon the Grimoire and start working on Dark Blade. I fix more flaws, reroute mana channels, patch every inefficiency I can spot. I use the down time to push the Skill higher, draining my reserves almost to zero before the break ends.
When I finish, I switch straight into Meditation, pouring my focus into rapid recovery. My mana and stamina fill back up, if not completely, then enough for another fight.
Adrienne eyes me as I gasp for breath after a Grimoire session.
“You’re going to burn yourself out. What’s the point?”
I smile.
“I’m just getting warmed up.”
Veyl snorts.
“You’ll die on the next monster, and it won’t bother me one bit.”
Felisia nudges me, whispering, “Don’t push yourself too hard.”
*
Among the nobles, the debate has reignited. “What is Jacob doing? He wastes mana, exhausts himself—does he think this is the end?”
Sir Renquell observes, rubbing his chin.
“He’s optimizing for something. Maybe he sees a flaw in the monsters, or maybe he wants to level up before the next fight.”
“He’s mad, then,” mutters another noble. “He’ll just get himself killed.”
Lord Clearwater only smiles, watching the field.
*
We break camp, everyone topped off or close to it. The path climbs higher, the air growing thin and cold. Before long, a new monster blocks the route: a massive, hunched shape with ragged brown fur and a wicked ironwood staff. Its yellow eyes gleam with intelligence and hate. The System overlay flashes:
[Casting Monkey — Level 190]
Veyl steps forward, voice cold.
“You two,” he points at me and Felisia, “will handle the ranged attacks. I expect you to keep it distracted.”
Felisia opens her mouth to protest, but I cut her off.
“That’s fine. We’ll take care of the hardest part. Just try not to get yourselves killed up close.”
Veyl blinks, thrown off by my easy agreement. He was expecting a fight, not compliance.
We fan out. Felisia and I unleash volleys of magic—she uses Grand Water Slash, I alternate between Fire Slash and flickers of Infernal energy. The monkey absorbs the first wave with a flick of its staff, then retaliates by hurling boulders of mana and fireballs that force us to dodge and weave.
Veyl and Adrienne close in, but the monster proves it’s not just a caster. It fights like a berserker, staff spinning in deadly arcs, tail whipping stones and dirt. Veyl launches lightning, but the monster seems oddly resistant, shaking off the shocks and landing brutal blows. Adrienne surrounds herself with ice shields, but every hit cracks them.
Felisia and I rain down magic.
The monkey starts to slow, cracks appearing on its staff, blood matting its fur. Still, our damage only goes so far. The monster pivots, tail lashing out, sending Felisia tumbling backward. I catch her, help her up, then flick my wrist.
Shadows gather behind the monkey.
Dark Lattice winds around its body, sucking at its vitality and mana.
Adrienne and Veyl press the attack, draining the last of their reserves as they force the monster to its knees. I hurl one last Fire Slash, Felisia follows with Water Slash, and the monkey collapses in a heap, staff splitting with a final crack.
The aftermath looks much like before.
Veyl and Adrienne can barely stand, sweat pouring from every pore, faces drawn and hollow. Felisia and I look…well, not fresh, but definitely less battered.
I make a show of dusting off my hands.
Veyl glares daggers at me. His jaw works in silence, and his hand twitches as if considering murder. He glares at Adrienne, but she just looks away, disgust in her eyes. The four of us collapse to the ground.
Veyl grinds out, “We rest until everyone’s topped off this time. No more of your games, Cloud.”
I raise a middle finger at him, not bothering to hide it.
Felisia bursts out laughing.
“Come on, let’s get to the top before they do. They’re too tired to follow.”
Comments
Vengeful Birch
That could be a cool spin-off.
Teakkup
Sorry if this has been asked before, but in this world do the nobles get culled by angry powerful "peasants" every few generations? I can't see how in a world with literal real personal power that the nobility can survive having an arrogant "young master", let alone entire noble families creating enemies of the entire population! (also loving the story, TY)
Jayson Saxby
Tftc! These chapters were awesome 🙌 😁
